Men Made in America Mega-Bundle

by Gayle Wilson, Marie Ferrarella, Jennifer Greene, Annette Broadrick, Judith Arnold, Rita Herron, Anne Stuart, Diana Palmer, Elizabeth Bevarly, Patricia Rosemoor, Emilie Richards

  “You each won the award, as I recall, different years.” He smiled. “I always wondered if that was why the two of you split—two careers in the family and all. Tell me, Drew, was she too much competition for you?”

  Drew leaped from his chair, then realized how well Morey knew him. He shook his head. “You really are a bastard, Morey. Why are you baiting me? If it were up to me, Lisa and I would still be together and you know it.”

  “So why don’t you want to do Sands of Sierra with her?” Morey watched his client pace in front of him and marveled once again at nature’s inequities. Why should one man have so much going for him? Not only was he extremely intelligent, but he also had the kind of character that no amount of fame or fortune could corrupt. Wouldn’t that be enough for any one person? Not in Drew’s case. He also looked like a million bucks. Although his face was too strong to be labeled handsome, from the amount of fan mail he’d received since his first minor role, it was obvious that women liked what they saw. Maybe that jawline denoted a little more stubbornness than was necessary, but the wide, often smiling mouth effectively compensated. Most of the time.

  Today the mouth looked every bit as determined as the jawline. Morey sighed. He must be getting old. He didn’t know why he was willing to put himself through this nonsense. But he knew why. Adele Benton.

  He wasn’t sure when Adele managed to wrap herself around his heart. It was a secret he intended to keep until he died. But when she asked him to help her pull this deal off, he’d found himself staring into those clear blue eyes and promising her anything.

  He straightened in his chair. “Look, Drew, I don’t care if you do this damned film or not. It’s nothing to me. I sure as hell don’t need the money. Neither do you. It’s just a shame Lisa was stupid enough to get herself in a bind.”

  Drew stopped his pacing and spun around. “What do you mean?”

  Morey had the grace to look ashamed. “Forget that. I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

  With two strides Drew was leaning on the desk, staring at Morey. “What’s happened to Lisa?”

  “What do you care? She’s not your responsibility any longer, remember? She walked out on you—hurt you like hell. She deserves everything she’s getting.”

  Drew spaced his words carefully through clenched teeth. “What’s happened to Lisa?”

  Morey shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly. I had lunch with Adele the other day and she said Lisa had made some poor investments or something. I don’t know. Must need the money pretty badly.”

  Drew stared at his agent for a moment. “You mean Lisa has already agreed to make this picture?”

  “It doesn’t do any good for only one of you to agree. The offer is both—or neither. I told Adele I’d mention it to you, but I’ve already warned her what your answer would be.”

  Drew slowly straightened, then turned away from Morey, walking over to the window and staring out without seeing anything.

  Lisa. He hadn’t been able to sleep for months after she’d left. She haunted him. Everywhere he turned in their home overlooking the Pacific he saw her, or heard her tinkling laugh, or faced her teasing smile. When he did sleep he dreamed of her. His brain replayed tapes of their life together.

  He saw her glossy black curls spilling over the ivory satin pillow case, her petite body perfectly formed and seductively arrayed in a flesh-toned lace and satin excuse for sleeping apparel. She’d never managed to go to sleep in it.

  Those magnificent eyes invited him closer, always closer, their slight tilt at the corners giving her an exotic look that mesmerized him. And she had been his—all his.

  When they’d found out she was pregnant, their lives appeared complete, and when their tiny daughter had failed to live, he’d felt that part of him had died as well.

  He’d tried to convince Lisa there could be others. The doctor had been vague about the cause of death. There had been some talk about congenital disorder, something that none of them had control over.

  He’d waited for Lisa to come to terms with her grief, to accept their loss and go on. Instead, she had grown increasingly distant until the day she’d announced she was leaving him—she no longer wished to be married.

  He had tried to convince her they could work things out together. That they loved each other enough to overcome all obstacles. But nothing he’d said seemed to affect her. He’d loved her as he’d never loved anyone before, but his love hadn’t been enough.

  And now she needed money. It was ridiculous, really. After Lisa left, she had refused to take any money from him. She wanted nothing from him—which had hurt him even more. Even her attorney had grown frustrated with her stubborn stand. But that was Lisa. Stubborn to a fault. Also full of courage and determination. And he still loved her. Dammit!

  She wouldn’t let him help her financially, but she was willing to make a movie with him. Maybe willing was too strong a word. From the sound of things, neither of them was being given too much choice.

  But he didn’t need the work, he reminded himself. He’d managed to survive losing her by drowning himself in a sea of scripts and scenes, moving from location to location without thought or concern. As long as he didn’t need to go home to that empty, echoing house, which would always be empty—regardless of the number of people in it—because Lisa wasn’t there.

  Morey patiently waited for Drew to make the only decision possible for him, knowing how he felt about Lisa. He felt a slight twinge of conscience, but only a slight one. Not that he was at all sure Adele was right. But he was willing to go along with the plan.

  Eventually Drew turned around and faced his agent and long-time friend. He looked tired. Even worse, he looked defeated. “When do we start filming?”

  Adele’s phone rang and she grabbed it.

  “He just left.” Morey’s voice sounded so clear that he could have been in the next room.

  “And?”

  “He bought it.”

  Adele burst out laughing. “That’s marvelous, Morey. I knew you could do it!”

  “Not me, sugar, not me. You knew good and well that Drew would gallop to her rescue if he thought she needed him.”

  She smiled. “Let’s just say that I hoped.”

  “How did your side go?”

  Adele’s smile expanded into an impish grin. “Actually, I think I missed my calling, Morey. I really should have been an actress. You would have been proud of me.”

  There was a moment of silence while Morey fought the impulse to say what he really felt—I’m always proud of you. Instead, he asked in a gruff tone. “The question is, is she going to do it?”

  “Of course she is. She just hasn’t faced it yet!”

  “You’re pretty damned sure of yourself.”

  “No, I’m sure that those two are still very much in love with each other and that they need this opportunity to spend some time together.”

  “And they’ll probably end up like two icicles on the set. Remember, this is supposed to be a love story.”

  “I know,” Adele said. “I sent the script home with Lisa, told her to read it and get back to me. There’s no way she’d turn down the chance to help Drew in his time of need—” she chuckled “—and when she sees what a good part she has, she’s bound to take it.”

  “Keep me posted. Remember, if we pull this off, you’ve promised me a weekend in Acapulco.”

  Adele fingered the phone cord a little nervously. “So I did. I must have had too much to drink to make such a rash promise.”

  “Don’t worry, kid. You won’t have to do any running to get away from me. Not at my age. My chasing days expired some time ago.”

  The amusement in his voice reminded Adele that Morey had made his reputation around town by squiring the most beautiful and talented women to the most widely publicized events. “I refuse to get into a debate over your virility at this point, Morey. As I recall, the offer was for you to take the companion of your choice.”

  “So it was. I’ll keep that
in mind.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything.”

  “You do that.”

  Lisa lay curled up in her king-sized bed, looking like a little girl in her nightshirt and pigtail. She dropped the script of Sands of Sierra on the bed beside her and stared into space.

  It was a beautiful love story. She could see Drew playing the role of Reynaldo, the renegade who fell in love with Conchita, the daughter of the owner of the hacienda and surrounding countryside. A classic love story. With his tawny hair and eyes, he’d look magnificent in the black period costumes.

  Drew. She’d fought for so long to erase him from her mind, but the moment she’d quit fighting, the memories had all tumbled back. She had spent the past three days trying to ignore the script Adele had given her, trying to find the courage to call Adele and tell her she would not do the film.

  She hadn’t been able to do it. Lisa wasn’t sure whether reading the script had been an act of courage or cowardice. It had lain on her bedside table and beckoned to her. Drew needed to make the movie, and she was the only one who could help him.

  With sudden decision, she sprang out of bed and strode to the television set. Digging under the cabinet she found the video of Red Sunset. She quickly placed it in the recorder and turned it on.

  For the next two hours Lisa became lost in the movie and her memories of Drew. She could remember the feel of his arms around her, the taste of his lips possessing her, the joy of knowing he loved her. Forgotten was the pain of giving him up and learning to live without him.

  Drew needed her. He needed to star in this new film and she could help him. Was she still so wrapped up in her own grief that she wouldn’t even help the man she loved when he needed her?

  It’s time to crawl out of the hole you’ve been hiding in, Lisa, old girl. You made your decision—now live with it like an adult.

  Drew must not be concerned about seeing her again or he wouldn’t have agreed to make the movie. He must be reconciled to the divorce by now.

  She really had no choice. Her feelings were her problem and she would have to deal with them.

  She’d call Adele tomorrow and tell her she’d make the film.

  Four

  The Mexican countryside looked hot and dry, and Lisa was thankful the limousine that had met her at the Mexico City airport was air conditioned. Cuernavaca was some sixty miles south of Mexico City, and she’d found herself speculating on whether Drew would be at the Hacienda Vista Hermosa when she arrived.

  She had asked no questions. Instead, she’d left all arrangments to Adele and had buried herself in the script, trying to become Conchita with her fear of her father and his absolute control over her life, and with her love for Reynaldo. How horrible it must have been back in those days not to have had any say in the direction of your life, to know that first your father, then your husband, had absolute control over your person and your possessions.

  She couldn’t imagine anything like that. Her marriage had been a partnership in which decisions had been arrived at after discussion, but never arbitrarily. She smiled, remembering some of those discussions that had become a little noisy. She knew she worried too much—about everything. Because of her insecurity she would automatically take the advocate role in a discussion to ensure that they didn’t overlook a possibility or two.

  Drew used to tear his hair when, after several hours of weighing the pros and cons, she would finally admit that she had agreed with him all along.

  She had never fully appreciated the fact that he listened to her, weighed her opinions carefully and with respect. At the time she had taken his attitude for granted. But it had been one of his many lovable traits.

  The limousine turned off the highway onto a narrow paved road that was soon bordered on one side by a white stucco wall. Lisa realized the wall was part of the hacienda when the car slowed down and turned between two wrought-iron gates.

  For a moment Lisa thought she’d discovered a movie set already prepared for filming. A winding road ran ahead of them, lined on either side by blooming poinciana trees, their lush, fiery flowers adding a dreamlike appearance to the roadway. Although everything on the other side of the wall had been brown and dry, the grass and shrubs inside were luxuriantly green, the glossy leaves shining in the sunlight.

  They passed through an archway of another wall around the hacienda itself and pulled into a circular driveway.

  The limousine had barely stopped when Lisa’s door was pulled open. “Lisa, my dear, it’s delightful to see you!”

  Tom Trevayne, the director of the movie, as well as a long-time friend, grasped her hand and helped her from the car. With his sandy hair and lightly freckled face, Tom looked younger than his forty-plus years. He and Lisa had worked together before and she was relieved to have him involved in this picture.

  “It’s good to see you too, Tom. Are you the one responsible for my reception at the airport?”

  He grinned, his brown eyes dancing. “A little publicity never hurt a picture, Lisa. I had intended to meet you myself, but as usual I had a crisis to settle here.” He gave her a quizzical look. “Was it very bad?”

  “No. Not really. The chauffeur handed me your note, and he was very efficient with my luggage.” She glanced around the place. “What a beautiful spot to be on location.”

  Tom looked around as though the surroundings were his own personal creation. “Isn’t it, though?” They both enjoyed the view of the sparkling swimming pool with the stone arches running through the center of it so that it was actually two very large swimming areas. He put his arm around her shoulder and started up the steps. “At one time this was an honest-to-God working hacienda, but for the past several years it’s been a resort. They maintained the ambience of the place, though. Just wait until you see some of the main rooms—the wide-planked floors, the old smoked beams, the painting of the senorita dressed in all her finery over the fireplace. Talk about atmosphere. The place is oozing with it.” Lisa wondered why Tom appeared nervous. He kept glancing at her while he talked, his eyes concerned.

  Of course. He’s worried about how Drew and I will get along now that we’re separated. Tom had directed them in two other pictures, and she could see why he might be wondering how they’d react to each other now. Lisa wished she knew some way to reassure him, but she wasn’t any more certain than he was that the whole idea of the two of them starring together would even work.

  They walked into the spacious lobby, and the first person Lisa saw was Drew Donovan. He stood with his back toward her, looking out a window across the room. “When did Drew arrive?” Lisa hoped her voice sounded casual enough.

  Tom’s arm dropped from her shoulder and he studied her expression with what looked to be apprehension. “A couple of days ago. He wanted to get a feel for the place, he said, and familiarize himself with some of the filming locations. There’s some rugged countryside we intend to use in the scenes when Conchita runs off with her renegade.”

  Lisa couldn’t take her eyes off Drew. His broad shoulders and lean waist and hips had always appealed to her, and the casual shirt and well-worn jeans needlessly emphasized his masculine charm.

  Drew must have heard their voices. He glanced around, then turned and strode toward them. Lisa studied his face, noting the slight changes. He appeared thinner and the lines around his mouth were deeper. Never had she seen his eyes without the special warmth they had always held for her. Now they looked cool and distant. He nodded politely to her, his face registering very little emotion.

  “Hello, Lisa. I’m glad to see you made it all right.”

  She stood there staring at him, trying to drink him in all at once, after the twelve-month drought of not seeing him. He took her hand and squeezed it gently, which set up a tingling awareness of him that vibrated throughout her system.

  “Hello, Drew.”

  Her voice was so soft that he almost didn’t hear it. Her eyes seemed to fill her face, and he saw a sadness still lurking in their de
pths. A pain shot through him. She still hadn’t gotten over losing their baby. He wondered if she ever would.

  Someone called Tom, and he glanced around impatiently. Then he turned back to Drew. “Would you mind showing Lisa to her quarters, Drew? Things seem to be going to hell around here. I hope this isn’t a sign of how the shooting’s going to go.” He looked first at one of them, then the other, as though waiting for some kind of reassurance. Neither one of them responded to the unspoken appeal. He shrugged and turned to Lisa. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight to give you the schedule. It’s going to be hectic, but no more than usual.” He patted her on the shoulder, gave Drew a short wave and strode away.

  Drew turned to Lisa, his voice carefully neutral. “You’re down the hallway from me. We’ve both got rooms with a marvelous view. I’m sure you’re going to enjoy it here.”

  Lisa decided he sounded like the hotel entertainment director, politely greeting a new arrival. But then, what had she expected? She wondered if he had brought anyone down here with him. In some ways, seeing him with someone else would make their time together easier. It would reinforce the reality of their situation as two people no longer on the same course. But she knew how much she dreaded to see him with someone else.

  Humans are certainly irrational creatures, she thought with an inward smile. How do I expect him to remarry and have a family if he doesn’t get involved with someone else!

  Drew took Lisa’s arm and gently propelled her down a long hallway. They left the main part of the hacienda. The corridor and guest rooms were obviously a more recent addition. They were filled with light and decorated with stately elegance. Lisa felt a slight lessening of tension. The place was so full of serenity and peace that some of it wafted around her, gently enfolding them.

  The light scent of Drew’s after-shave reached her and she shivered slightly. The memories evoked by the scent were better left unrecalled.

  She had dreaded seeing Drew again. Well, now she had. Not knowing how he would treat her, she had imagined all sorts of things, but she needn’t have worried. He was being distantly polite. Surely she could handle that.